biochicklet

A fine WordPress.com site

Mom grieving her dog’s fatal accident

Leave a comment

tall (1)

 

Empty Space

What am I doing here

where clocks insinuate time

and heads mutter to each other

and nod

as though they understood anything.

It happens again and again,

in and out of sleep,

reiterated infinite fractal:

something there and then immediately

nowhere.

How can nothing

make such a difference.

It is just a space, a fault,

waiting for quick hands

to stop remembering,

when they no longer hold it

but become it.

Advertisements

Author: biochicklet

Scientist raised by intellectuals on poetry, theater, art, history and music in New York City. Escaped to New Mexico to nature and mysticism. Knowing that the absurdities in this life are what we must laugh at.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s